


Lux et Veritas

by stopmopingstarthoping



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe, Friends to Lovers, Law School, M/M, Seasons Theme, minor pandemic analogy, omg they were roommates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-01
Updated: 2021-01-01
Packaged: 2021-03-11 07:27:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28467546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stopmopingstarthoping/pseuds/stopmopingstarthoping
Summary: Noctis and Prompto encounter a lot their first year of law school - parties, exams, and a gigantic amount of reading, of course. They manage to make it through together, and fall in love along the way.
Relationships: Prompto Argentum/Noctis Lucis Caelum, background gladnis
Comments: 7
Kudos: 29
Collections: Fandom Trumps Hate 2020





	1. Autumn

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MathClassWarfare](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MathClassWarfare/gifts).



Damn, it’s still so hot in Insomnia in summer. You’d think Noctis would be used to it, living here his entire life. But his movements are weary and slow as he picks up another box and heads up the stairs. No air conditioning; no elevator; this place is ridiculous. It’s such a contrast from the sleek high-rise he’d gotten to live in for the latter part of high school and college.

Gladio will glare at him if he doesn’t keep moving though, and he  _ does _ feel guilty that his two friends basically got guilted into moving him in. They’ve got enough to be concerned about with the start of their last year; though it seems like Ignis is moving through this the way he does everything else: with efficiency and ease.

Noctis plops down on his new bed and huffs. He scrolls through the little schedule they’d been sent on his phone—after move-in, they’ve got what’s called “small sections”—subparts of the first year class, he guesses. They’re having little meetings out on the lawn this morning to say hi, get to know each other, and get a third-year mentor type person. Unsurprising that his large, gregarious friend has volunteered for that duty.

“Gotta go, Noct. Someone’s got to keep these freshmen together.” Gladio finishes putting his shelves together and ducks out with a thumbs-up.

“Thanks, big guy. See you later.”

Gladio and Ignis don’t live in the dorms anymore; Ignis had moved out after one year, claiming the food was intolerable, and Gladio, given an instant roommate, had followed. Still, they’d both told Noctis this was the perfect place to live and make friends, even just the first year.

Ignis is still puttering around unpacking some of Noctis’ boxes, and he’s grateful for the company. His other long-time friend isn’t part of the third-year welcome squad, whatever they’re called. He’s too busy keeping his spot at the head of the class and angling for a fancy clerkship when he graduates. Noctis wonders how he’ll fare in the school’s oral argument competition, the Royal Arms Cup. He’s barely heard about it but knows it’s a  _ really _ big deal for the students. There’s the person with the best grades, and then the winner of the Royal Arms Cup; and they’re not always the same person but they both get a lot of cred, or so he’s heard. Weird, law school nerd cred, but still. It’ll be fun to watch Iggy try to win it. He waves as Ignis takes off, the slight wilt to his upswept hairstyle his only concession to the heat.

He runs a wet towel over his sopping face and ambles down the stairs to the courtyard. The stone is starting to cool already as the sun goes down, and he’s starting to see why the dorms were built this way.

Noctis looks at his phone again. He’s been assigned to the Coeurls, who are apparently meeting in front of dorm 12. Okay. There’s a woman with long dark hair standing while everyone else sits around her; that must be his assigned third year.

He looks up and gives her a shy smile

A blond kid in a denim jacket scrambles over, knocking into the green-haired girl next to him.

“Whoops, sorry! There’s a spot here.”

Noctis grins and sits down, cross-legged. There’s something simple and youthful to this, almost like summer camp. They introduce themselves and meet Crowe, who’s headed back to her hometown after this year to work on affordable housing. She tells them that the most important thing while they’re here is to take care of themselves. The second most important thing is to decide what it is they want to do after, so they’ve got something to shoot for.

Noctis thinks of his admittedly shitty habits, and of his thus far aimless goals.  _ Zero for two, fantastic. _

“The third most important thing,” Crowe sits down in the circle with all of them, “is to lean on each other. You’re all in this together, might as well share the load.”

Noctis looks around at the other expectant eyes in the circle, and the guy next to him gives him a hesitant little grin. Yeah, okay. That doesn’t sound so bad.

* * *

Noctis is at his desk, feeling like an old man with a pillow tucked in to protect his back. Prompto, the blond guy from orientation, is lying on his back on the floor, socked feet on Noctis’ bed, and he’s wailing at the book he’s got held up over his face.

“Whyyyyy? Why does Professor Leonis assign two HUNDRED pages of reading when he knows we have like six other classes?” He drops the book, resigned, and then rolls over.

He’s got a point. Noctis was always that kid who devoured books. Could read hundreds of pages a day, if he had nothing else going on. But this? So much reading, and it’s all weird legal stuff. There’s apparently ways to look for things in this kind of layout, but he’s yet to get the knack of doing it. It’s hard. Learning the structure of how this stuff is written is definitely a challenge.

You know, while also absorbing the substance of five different classes. No big. Noctis laughs, a little resigned sag to his own shoulders. 

Prompto’s still on the floor, face in the crook of his arm. Noctis pokes him with a toe.

“You okay dude?”

Prompto groans, but doesn’t pick his head up. “You ever just feel like….you’re not supposed to be here? Like at some point everyone is gonna find out you got in by accident and just—” He sits up on his elbows and lets out a long sigh, eyes flicking to the law firm logo on Noctis’ bookbag. 

He laughs, weakly. “Yeah, probably not.”

Noctis turns sideways in his chair. “This is really hard, dude. It’s not just you. And unfortunately, no matter how much practice my dad has at reading this stuff, he can’t transplant the knowledge into my puny little brain, so...definitely in the same boat.” 

He stands up. “We need a break. Let’s get crazy and get some off-campus food.”

Prompto looks up hopefully. “Tacos?”

Noctis laughs, despite himself. “You always want tacos.”

“But that place down the street is so good!”

“Ok, how about you get tacos to go and then I get a slice, and then….”

“We hit the arcade?” Prompto is hopeful, like a puppy. It’s so, so tempting.

“I was gonna say bring it back here and do some more reading, but it  _ is _ Friday.” Weekends are catch-up time. “Wait, let’s bring the books and study at the coffee shop. I’m sick of the dorms.”

Prompto’s face brightens. “Perfect. If we can knock this shit out tonight, I”m playing skee-ball tomorrow guilt free, baby!” 

Noctis watches him stretch his arms overhead and laughs.

* * *

Noctis blinks; his eyelids feel all weird and thick from the eye makeup he’d let one of his classmates put on him. The ears, tail, and all-black outfit are the lowest-effort costume he could possibly think of, and he hadn’t really wanted to come to this party.

But, as Crowe had pointed out, he hadn’t wanted to  _ not _ go, either. It’s marginally better to go, and hang out, and talk to his friends, and drink watered-down drinks, than it would have been to stay home by himself in his dorm room.

At least his friends are here. Iggy is a vampire, again, and Gladio is….some movie character Noctis doesn't immediately recognize, but someone without a shirt. Not a surprise. 

He hasn’t found Prompto, though, even though he’d been pretty sure Prompto was coming, and not choosing the “stay at home and look out the window and pretend to read and try to convince myself I’m glad I didn’t go” path.

Crowe is way too insightful sometimes.

Anyway. Noctis wanders over to some of the tables where people are sitting and talking. It’s darker and calmer than the dance floor, and less….flirty than the bar. He grabs a quick beer and scuttles away from all that.

Chill is good. He grins at Gladio trying to toss peanuts into Iggy’s cup, and notices that Iggy’s huff is decidedly less annoyed than it would be if it were anyone else. He decides to leave them alone, and as he watches Ignis cross one long leg over the other and turn toward Gladio (who is Aquaman, he realizes), Noctis grins and knows it’s the right idea.

Someone slaps his shoulder, way too hard. He stumbles a little bit, and when he catches his footing again, it’s someone with - wow, some biceps.

The practiced smile he’s learned at his parents’ fancy, annoying parties starts up before he can stop it. “Hey, buddy, you ok there?” He starts to stay something else, before his eyes follow up the freckled line of a bare arm, and he’s stunned.

It’s Prompto. And he’s  _ trashed _ . Open-smiling, hair-mussed, hip-wiggling, drunk off his ass. And it’s…..weirdly endearing? 

“Never better.” He’s dressed like a cowboy, and it’s kind of pieced-together stuff because none of their friends had gotten their shit together early enough to get anything cool, and this college town takes Halloween  _ seriously _ . Costumes have been sold out for weeks. Prompto’s got a muscle shirt on under a brown vest with a big dorky gold star pinned to it, which should look stupid but. Doesn’t.

Noctis takes a really big swig of his beer and also doesn’t look at how tight Prompto’s jeans are under the enormous belt buckle. Where did he even find that, anyway? Dammit, is he on purpose trying to be a  _ hot gay cowboy _ ? Noctis looks away, quickly, but Prom is laughing at something someone else said, and he doesn’t notice where Noctis is or isn’t looking.

It’s dark in here, but Prompto’s flush underneath his freckles is still obvious. The song changes to something that thumps loudly, and Prompto’s energy bubbles out all around the edges. The little bit of hesitance that tends to hold him back from making any kind of display appears to be gone, and he gets a broad grin, tossing his head at Noctis.

He only loses the hat a little, and saunters by, yelling “Wanna dance? I think I see some of the other first-years out there!” at Noctis as he goes by.

Noctis does  _ not  _ want to dance. He’s not a big dancer, aside from the silly cotillion stuff his parents had made him do with Luna when he was a teen. But...their class  _ is _ out there having fun, and in this grueling routine of read, sleep, pry eyeballs open for class, repeat, a little letting loose is more than welcome.

He finishes his drink and follows along behind his cowboy friend, who’s doing the drunken hoot of recognition at their classmates. Noctis smiles awkwardly and bops more awkwardly on the sidelines, but more than once ends up smiling widely or even caught in a fit of laughter over a funny move or a silly look from one of his friends.

More than once, it’s Prompto. He’s glad they both came.

Prompto falls asleep on Noctis’ shoulder on the bus on the way back. He snores. It’s kind of cute. Noctis just holds onto his cowboy hat and smiles to himself, silly ears reflected in the window.

Prompto only yeehaws a couple of times, draped across Noctis’ shoulders across the quad, and he doesn’t throw up, and he drinks the water Noctis gives him obediently, and Noctis falls asleep smelling like sweat and cologne that aren’t his, and it’s all a lot better than the staring out the window game. 

He’s not telling Crowe she was right.

* * *

Regis has sent a sweatshirt, made sure that Noctis (and a “friend”) were amply supplied with season tickets, and made Noctis promise that he’ll report back on his big-university blitzball game experience. Noctis’ father has bemoaned repeatedly the fact that he can’t make it to games as often as he’d like, and as a child Noctis had been subjected to altogether too many of the games on television.

Prompto had happily accepted the extra ticket, and is bounding alongside them like a puppy as they walk the mile or so to the stadium. 

Ignis and Gladio are old hat at this, with square little seat cushions, rain ponchos in pockets, and, in Gladio’s case, a couple beers in his coat, too. 

“You know they’re going to take those away from you at the door, Gladio.” Ignis sniffs and pushes up his glasses. He looks funny, all tall, thin, studiousness in a sweatshirt and toque in their school colors. He’s usually so formal, all button-down shirts and vests and stuff. “Can’t be cutting into their ridiculous food and beverage profit margins.”

Gladio scoffs. “That’s assuming I’m not gonna drink ‘em by the time we get there. That crowd walks slow.”

Prompto looks over at him. “Crowd?”

Gladio laughs. “Just wait and see.”

“I am not bailing you out if you get an open container ticket, Gladiolus.”

“Like any cop is gonna thread their way through the crowd to get to me.”

They continue to bicker, and Prompto and Noctis fall behind them a couple of steps. Noctis had gone to a small private college for his four undergraduate years, and Prompto had worked and gone to a low-key school that was pretty intertwined with downtown—no big stadiums, no famous blitzball teams.

“He played in undergrad, didn’t he?” Prompto nods at Gladio.

“Oh, you heard?” Noctis grins at him, sarcasm bending his lips a little more than usual. “Yeah, he was a starting defenseman for four years at IU. That’s how he started hanging out with Ignis, actually; they were both on the team in high school.”

“Iggy played  _ blitzball _ ?” Prompto’s eyes are set to fall out of his head. 

Noctis laughs. “Just in high school, but yeah, he was a forward.”

“That’s so cool! Niflheim high schools don’t usually have blitzball teams. Unless they’re like, fancy. I think one of the schools in Gralea has a stadium, but those are really expensive. And the logistics, in the snow...”

“Yeah.” Noctis thinks for a moment. “Have you seen a live game before?”

“No! I’m so hyped!”

It’s cute, and Noctis reconsiders his earlier foot-dragging at going. It’s a little weird, being an older student going to this thing, with all the eager frenzy of the undergraduates who sleep a little more and study a little less than they do. But this is truly an  _ experience _ , and if it’s a little odd to be doing it for the first time now, well, that’s fine.

The student section is raucous and fun; the floating band loves them; and the seats are actually really fantastic. Way closer than they’d be if they weren’t enrolled. Noctis snaps a few photos to show his dad and make him jealous.

Prompto’s frowning at him.

“What?”

“Lemme help, yeah?” He pulls out a little camera from who knows where in his vest, and adjusts about four things before snapping some photos. He leans over and shows Noctis on the viewscreen. The colors are brilliant: the lush blue of the water, the bright contrast of the players’ uniforms and the sharp graphics everywhere.

Noctis laughs softly. “Oh, man, my dad’s gonna be so jealous. This is probably going to guarantee that he makes an excuse to visit and be horribly dadly all over one of our home games.”

Prompto chuckles, a light little return. “I bet your dad’s awesome.” 

He pauses for a long moment. 

“Oh hey, while I’ve got this out.” He makes a few more adjustments and then tips his head toward Noctis, holding the camera out with one arm and making the peace sign with the other hand. “Selfie time!” 

Noctis smiles, and it only feels a little awkward. Something about the crisp air and the leaf-smell and the noise, and the chanting of the fans, has gotten him loosened up, he guesses.

“Gladio! Iggy! Get in here!” 

There are a few more snaps, and then Prompto puts his camera away.

Their team loses, but it doesn’t even matter. There are enough moments of fun and drama in the game that they all yell and laugh and have a great time. 

On the walk back, Prompto catches his eye.

“Thanks. For the ticket. This was a really good time.”

Noctis dips his head in a nod, and Gladio overhears, putting Prompto in a friendly headlock. 

“You’re a Lucis Knight now; it’s basically required. Wouldn’t be the full experience without it!”

Ignis pulls Gladio back and  _ ooooh they’re holding hands  _ but Noctis knows Gladio will punch him in the shoulder if he lets on that he notices, so he doesn’t. 

Prompto’s looking at Noctis kind of funny, though, and he just says, “You’re right. Sure wouldn’t.”


	2. Winter

It's sharp, the way it cuts into him sometimes. Now that he knows. Prompto's not sure if he's glad that he figured himself out. Maybe it would have been better to stay confused. 

Noctis turns his head, and dark hair catches contrasting, glittering flakes of snow, and he laughs at someone running behind them. 

Prompto thinks it would be the easiest thing in the world to catch Noctis' cold hand and twine his even colder fingers with his. Bitten nails and weird tattoos and all. For a minute, for a heartbeat, it feels natural. 

His heart beats, the moment passes, and Prompto shoves his hands into his pockets. This jacket sucks in this weather. He needs a new one, but he needs lots of stuff. Also, it's probably not the jacket's fault that Prompto is cold and hot all at the same time right now. 

He looks back and laughs at Crowe as she gets ready to throw a snowball at the two of them. She flicks a glance at him, just for a second, and Prompto feels rattled. Does she know?

Prompto shakes it off and scoops up some snow. 

Noctis knocks him down. All in good fun, of course. And then all Prompto can see are clear blue eyes with a cold winter sky framing Noctis' face. He didn't even know he wanted to kiss guys a few months ago and now all he can think about is pulling Noct's face that couple of inches until their lips meet. It would be cold, warm, just like Prompto’s own crazyass body.

It would be perfect. 

Prompto reaches up and stuffs a fistful of snow down Noct's jacket neck, laughing and scrambling out from under him as he yells at the cold. 

The snowball fight has taken up most of the quad, the kids from less-snowy areas whooping and hollering in surprise, and the more experienced ones already building forts and snowmen. It’s a cold little oasis in a bleak desert of sleep deprivation, rapid-fire questioning from professors, and reading, and he’s grateful for it. He dives into a pile of snow a classmate built and comes out shaking his head like a dog and laughing.

Noctis is looking at him with a funny look on his face. Prompto just shoots him some finger guns and runs inside to warm up and grab his camera. 

* * *

They’re hustling along the quad in the cold, and for a while it seems like everything is okay. 

“Damn, I can’t believe all our grades rely on one three-hour exam each. That’s so fucking scary, dude. I’m panicking a little bit.” Prompto shakes out his arms and looks over at Noctis.

“Yeah.” He stares off, a little glassy.

Prompto pokes him in the shoulder, but he just slumps.

When they arrive inside the building, Prompto puts his hands on Noct’s elbows for a minute, earning a stare and a giggle from a couple of girls passing by, but he ignores them.

“Hey. Dude. You with me?”

Noctis lets out a long, shaky breath. “Uggggh. Yeah. Yeah. I’m fine.”

“You didn’t  _ seem  _ fine for a minute there. I promise. You know this shit. Okay?”

Noctis looks down at his shoes, then looks up and blinks.

“Enough to pass anyway, right?” He smiles as winningly as he can over his own nerves, and that’s enough. Noctis cracks.

“Cs get degrees, right?” He holds his fist up for a bump.

Tension broken, Prompto laughs and bumps back. “Hell yeah, dude. Let’s go be adequate.”

Of course, Noctis isn’t adequate. He ends up with the book award for Contracts, and Prompto is ecstatic to be a B student in his very first semester. It’ll do. The two of them head off for break exchanging cell numbers and relieved smiles.

Prompto texts Noctis a lot more over break than he meant to. He doesn’t want to be annoying, but...Noctis always seems to be on his phone when Prompto is, and they have some really great conversations. And several really good remote games of Justice Monsters Five.

* * *

Ignis is an amazing orator. Along with most of the other law students, Prompto watches him make his points in front of the judges. He looks so calm, but Prompto knows how many times he’s practiced, looking into the mirror with a tense expression. That’s all gone as he launches into his final performance, and it’s amazing.

Despite all that, Iggy loses the Royal Arms Cup to another third-year student; an older guy who’s been in the military. He wins with a wink and a whole lot of charisma, despite not having the best grades in the class. Prompto just laughs, and Noctis leans over and whispers “Juries are gonna love that guy.”

Prompto nods. He wonders if juries will like  _ him _ , or if he’ll even do work that involves juries at all. It sounds terrifying. But like, the fun energetic kind of terrifying.


	3. Spring

“So, got anything planned for spring break?” Prompto’s question is light and casual as they walk down the street to their favorite convenience store. They’re after the junky chips and energy drinks that the dining hall doesn’t have, and it’s an excuse to stretch their legs and stop being cooped up inside studying all the time.

Prompto is essentially bouncing, he’s so happy to be freed from his book prison. Noctis is more subdued, but he does turn his face up to the sunshine and enjoy it. They should go to the little bar with the outside patio later, if they can swing it, he thinks.

“Yeah, my parents are doing a travel thing with some of their friends. They want me to come.” Noctis shrugs. “What about you?”

“Workin’. Probably. The old pizza place I worked at in high school is willing to take me back for a week, so I can’t pass up the cash. Plus I’ll head back home, do some laundry for free. You know, excitement by the minute. I’ll probably,” he lets out a heavy sigh, “catch up on reading. Not like I’ll ever be caught up, but….”

“And hey, if I can get done maybe play video games till my eyes bleed.” He grabs a bag of chips and a can with bright blue markings up the side and heads to the checkout. 

“That last one sounds perfect. Are you playing anything good these days?”

Prompto laughs and shakes his head. “No, it’s funny - like two weeks into being here, right? I had to box up my console and games and ship them home. It’s too tempting to pick it up instead of read.”

“Oof, I hear that.” 

“What are you doing?”

Noctis picks at a hangnail. “Eh, I dunno. Probably just family stuff, mostly.”

It's the kind of spring break that only privileged kids get; he didn't have to try to find a week's worth of temp work or stay in the dorms. Nope, it was a plane to Prague and family obligations that Noctis kind of hates, but he's well aware it's pretty easy, compared. And there are some pleasant things about this trip, Luna making the top of the list. 

"Are you making friends?"

Noctis laughs, sad and defensive at the same time. It's the kind of honest laugh most people don't get, but this is Luna. They've known each other since they were tiny, their parents friends long before that, and she arches a pretty blonde eyebrow at him. 

"Yeah, surprisingly enough."

They're interrupted by the imperious voice of Luna's mom. 

"Noctis! Lunafreya! Dress for dinner please! We're going on a riverboat cruise."

Noctis makes large, sarcastic eyeballs at Luna. "Oooh, a riverboat cruise. The ultimate stuffy old person evening. I wonder if there will be  _ dinner theater. _ "

Luna reapplies some lipgloss, and as she puts it away and prepares to respond to the summons, she pulls the Switch out of her bag to show Noctis with a finger over her lips. 

He laughs, and follows her out of the room. "Crafty as always. You're the best."

She shows him her Animal Crossing island; he tells her he's gay; she nods like she already knew but squeezes his knee about it too. She's glad, she says, that he felt he could share it with her. She'll help him tell his father, if he wants.

He doesn't, but over the railing of a slowly trailing boat, he tells her about Prompto. She says his face lights up when he talks about him, and that he should tell him how he feels. 

"What have you got to lose?"

A friend? A delicately balanced series of laughter and deep talks and skee-ball moments and the easy comfort of a friendship that nobody's ever tried to take further and failed?

Noctis thinks about what he might have to gain, though, and he thinks he might tell him. 

And then, when he gets back to campus, Prompto asks if they can be roommates over the summer, and Noctis decides he isn't saying anything. Not yet. Maybe not ever. 

* * *

They watch the half-year graduates walk the stage for spring graduation, and clap for Nyx, the guy who beat Iggy at moot court, and Crowe, and a couple other of the older students they’ve gotten to know. Noctis thinks to himself that he wonders when the guy will clear his first million as a plaintiff’s lawyer, and then he shudders. Never before have his thoughts sounded that much like Regis, and he drags Prompto to the dumbest superhero movie with tons of explosions that he can find afterward. As a palate cleanser.


	4. Summer

“I can’t believe we’re having dinner with your  _ dad _ . Do I need to wear a tie?”

Noctis, hanging upside down on Prompto’s bed, scoffs out a laugh. “No? He’s just a dorky dad?”

“A dorky dad who happens to have a giant firm  _ named  _ after him.” Prompto holds up the tie, then puts it back. If he really doesn’t have to wear it, he won’t.

Noctis just rolls his eyes. “Him and like six other people. And they’re all old and moldy law nerds. Trust me, he’ll love you.”   


Prompto puts on an actual buttondown, though, and talks Noctis into lending him a cardigan. It smells super nice, and for a long moment he thinks about not giving it back.

“Prompto!” Regis’ voice is booming, and well-cultivated; Prompto can just picture him on the phone cutting Big Deals with Scary People. 

But he’s also so obviously incredibly fond of his son, and not in the gross “vicariously living through my kid” way that Prompto had expected (yeah, he’ll admit it) because they’re fancy rich people. Regis and Noctis have a million inside jokes and a closeness that makes Prompto feel a little bit wistful. 

“What are your plans for the summer?”

Prompto fiddles with a chopstick, grateful they’d gone for the fun hibachi grill instead of somewhere he had to worry about what fork to use. “So, I’m really excited about it actually. It’s an immigrant aid non-profit in the city, working to help Niflheimians get acclimated and with any kind of legal, benefits stuff they might need.” 

Regis peers at him for a moment, and Prompto knows his heritage is written all over his pale hair and pale, freckled skin. He shifts uncomfortably.

“Well, that’s quite a noble cause. Insomnia certainly hasn’t done as well by that community as it could, and should. I’m impressed that you wish to help.”

He really means it, and Prompto relaxes by several degrees, digging into his shrimp and, by the end of the meal, not even cringing all that much when he drops one on the table next to his bowl.

Regis is kind, and  _ way _ less terrifying than he’d seemed on paper. By the end of the dinner, Prompto is won over enough to agree to be Noctis’ roommate for the summer without paying half the rent, especially after Regis manages to get out of Prompto the fact that Migrant Aid isn’t paying him, and the fact that he can’t pay for an apartment himself. He’s deft and polite, and Prompto doesn’t feel like he’s prying at all, but still the information comes flying out of his mouth anyway.

“I bet your dad is really good at depositions,” he whispers to Noctis on the way home.

“Huh? Why?” 

“No reason.”

* * *

“When did you get in?”

“‘Bout a half hour ago. I brought sushi.”

Prompto’s eyes widen with hunger and gratitude. He’s been cranking on this research since he moved from office to couch, and he hops up to descend on Noctis before he can even set down the food and his work bag. Noctis laughs. 

“Hungry, huh?”

Prompto nods. And then freezes. There’s something about Noctis’ voice that shoots right through his chest. Noctis is reaching across the table to set the bag down, Prompto is reaching after his hand, and it’s brought him close enough to feel the summer warmth rising off Noct’s dress shirt. He gulps, and doesn’t look up. He’s sure it’s just him, sure that there’s nothing more than—

“Hey.”

It’s that low, raspy, teasing tone that gets him.

Noctis hasn’t moved.

Prompto looks up. His voice doesn’t crack, and for that he thanks all the Astrals one by one.

“Hey.”

Noctis lets go of the bag with a soft crinkle.

There’s a question in his eyes, and they’re the clearest, most brilliant blue that Prompto thinks he’s ever seen. He hears his college photography professor in his mind, telling him how to light them to get the best result, but it fades as Noctis moves even closer to him—they’re already almost touching. It’s hesitant, and Noctis intakes a little breath, like he’s going to ask something.

In a rush of courage, Prompto meets him more than halfway. His hand finds Noct’s upper arm, and his lips find Noctis’. He closes his eyes; less out of romance and more to avoid embarrassment in case he’s read this completely wrong. If it turns out he’s got something on his nose, or something like that, he’d rather…

Noctis’ lips, thankfully, press back, and he steps forward to just lightly touch the side of Prompto’s neck.

Prompto exhales a small laugh into the kiss, and Noctis stops. 

“What?”

“You’re fine; you’re fine. I just—I’ve been wanting to do that for a long time, and I was worried I fucked it up; that’s all.”

“Definitely not.” Noctis traces his fingers down the side of Prompto’s face and linger on his jaw. “Think you’d, uh, be willing to try it again?”

Prompto feels a smile pull at his lips and a little bit of a devious tone seep into his words. “I would.”

The next kiss is less hesitant, and gains heat as the two of them gain confidence. Prompto’s mind is buzzing with excitement; has Noctis been thinking about this too? As usual, Noctis grounds him, makes the chattering in his mind calm and quiet, and as Noctis deepens the kiss, Prompto is knocked over by how sexy it is.

Their tongues tangle, searching, and Prompto finds himself pressed up against Noctis. He can smell his shampoo and they’re so close, their chests are about to touch. 

Noctis isn’t bold, but he isn’t timid, either. He walks Prompto back down the hallway to Noctis’ room, and before they fall together there’s a quick “This okay?” with an earnest look.

Prompto’s answer is to grab Noctis by the shirt and pull him in. They fall together in a summer chorus of skin and gasps and raw, open newness. He’d known Noctis was beautiful, but Prompto’s never seen him like this: skin flushed, eyes alternating between closed tight with pleasure— 

And staring at Prompto like he’s the whole world. He feels a little embarrassed, and then he feels handsome, and then he feels Noctis respond to him and it’s the best feeling in the world, and he wants to figure out every way to do it that he can…

And then he feels  _ everything _ , so strongly, and the world goes away for a little while in a flash of white and passion and—who knew he could lose himself in another person this deep?

The arm dangled across his chest, after, is so fond and affectionate, Prompto feels like something fragile inside his ribcage is about to break.

His stomach growls loudly.

“Shit, the sushi.”

Noctis laughs. “I think it’s still okay.”

They take the summer indulgence of eating sushi in their underwear; Prompto just stares, blissed out and hazy, until Noctis waves him off with a gentle laugh.

“You’re gonna give me a complex.”

Prompto crawls over him, sex-hazed and bold, and kisses him again until they can’t breathe. 


	5. Seasons Eternal

As the summer draws to a close, they’re watching anime and scrolling their phones when it hits. 

“Hey, Prom. Look at this.” There’s a new, unfamiliar disease. “People are calling it the Scourge?" It’s got a few different names on social media, but it sounds scary. Thousands of people sick and dying in Niflheim, and it’s moving toward Lucis; it’s just a matter of time.

“Damn. There’s no flu shot for that, is there?” Wide blue-violet eyes search Noctis’ face, and he knows Prompto’s thinking about his own health issues. He takes some kind of unspecified medicine Noctis has never pried about and sometimes has stomachaches that last for days. He really could be a member of the “vulnerable populations” Noctis is reading about.

“Your parents. They’re older, right?” Older people are at the top of the at-risk lists that are popping up in infographics and bullet points. They stop looking at their phones for a minute. 

Well, seems Noctis was wrong. He looks at Prompto and just nods. Figures, that he isn’t thinking about himself. 

“What are they gonna do? This is really contagious, it looks like.”

“I don’t know.” 

The two of them go back to their law clerk jobs, but by the end of the week, they’re told not to come back. That they should do all the research and writing from home for a while. It will just be a couple of weeks.

A couple of months.

* * *

Fall classes don’t start the way anyone thinks they will. Noctis and Prompto are still there, in their apartment, on what would have been the first day of classes. No lush green quad, no thick late-summer air.

Just the same couch and the same underwear-sushi routine as always. (Prompto can think of a million worse people to be quarantined with. Literally.) They’re going to read electronic books and go to class on Meteor, a video chat, and Prompto can’t wait for all the gunners in class to wear out the little hand-raising button in the software. 

Regis insisted that they stay, especially when the alternative was a crowded dorm. Prompto still remembers the phone call. “You’ve been living together all summer; it just makes sense. There’s no one else that makes sense."

Prompto thinks of Iggy and Gladio, and thinks Regis is exaggerating, probably, but he doesn’t mind. He just says “thank you” and “sir” a lot and feels kind of warm in his chest, like when he gets an answer right in class.

The days run together, and turn into weeks. Time passes slowly, in a blink, not at all.

“You’re not trapped in here with  _ me _ ; I’m trapped in here with  _ you _ .” Prompto makes finger guns, then frowns. “Wait, hang on—”

Noctis is already laughing.

"That's backwards, isn't it?"

Noctis is laughing too hard to answer; he just nods. He gets pelted by a pillow.

“Whatever; that’s why you love me.” It’s out before he really realizes it, and Prompto feels like he wants to slap his hands over his mouth. That’s stupid, and too soon, and he knows it. 

“I mean, you know, like that’s just one of the things that makes me so great, right?” He tries to roll with it, but his voice is high and strange and the chorus of  _ Dumbass! _ in his brain just split into three-part harmony.

Noctis sits down next to him, and looks over. The bright wash of summer sun illuminates the planes of his face, and Prompto wonders if there’s ever been a man this beautiful. He’s all earnest blue eyes and shy tenderness, and it makes Prompto’s chest hurt. Like, in a good way. He reaches out for Prompto’s hand, just kind of playing with his fingers.

“I do, though.” The low rasp of Noctis’ voice curls around Prompto like a warm summer breeze.

Prompto knows him well enough by now to know what he means. “You—you do?”

He nods. “Yeah. I was thinking about it for the last couple of weeks. Telling you. Not because I want you to say it back, or I expect it or anything, but...I thought it’d make you happy. And I thought I’d like it if you knew.”

Prompto looks down and picks at one of the frayed patches on his jeans. “Come on. Like I’m not gonna say it back. Like I haven’t been in love with you since you catboyed into that Halloween party. Since you stayed up all night with me while I freaked out about my take-home final.  _ You’re  _ the catch here, not me.”

Noctis gives him that look, the one that means Prompto’s running himself down again, and he stops. Not without a little acknowledgement in the back of Prompto's mind that’s ridiculously happy about their familiarity.  _ We have looks! _

He clears his throat and focuses again. “Right. So hey. I seriously didn’t expect anything to get this far, or to have you in my life, and my—my room, but—“ _ I suck at this _ , he thinks. He brushes hair back from Noctis’ face and rests his hand there for a moment. The tightness in his chest loosens at the contact, and the next words come out easily.

“I love you, too.” 

Noctis’ kisses make the world spin. Always have. He’s glad he’s lucky enough to look forward to getting a lot more.


End file.
